


Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)

by misura



Category: West Hell Magic Series - Devon Monk
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Morning After, Past Relationship(s), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "No reason to talk about last night. It happened. We're both adults, and we know where we stand."
Relationships: Elliott Clay/Hawthorn Graves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sadlikeknives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlikeknives/gifts).



The smell of fresh coffee hit Elliott's nose and woke him up more effectively than any alarm clock. Following right on the heels of that came the realization that the room, the _bed_ he was in wasn't his own. _Uh-oh._

Of course, there'd been a pretty sweet victory to celebrate last night. He might have drunk a bit more than strictly wise, said a few things that, while true, might have been better left unsaid.

"Here, kitty, kitty." _Shit._ Graves - of course. Not like it could have been anyone else. Even tipsy, Elliott wouldn't have put the moves on any other person, not with Graves right there, looking every damn bit as attractive as he had years ago, when they'd done the whole dating thing.

Standing in the doorway, half-dressed, hair still damp from a shower and holding a steaming mug of coffee, Graves was practically begging for Elliott to jump him again.

Except that Elliott knew what it took to make Graves beg, and lying in bed doing nothing wasn't it. Plus, Elliott was enough of an adult to know that just because they'd hooked up last night, that didn't mean Graves wanted to do that again this morning.

In fact, he was pretty sure Graves wanted him gone. ASAP. To forget last night had even happened.

Graves's expression definitely wasn't happy. He'd probably meant the coffee as a bribe - _here's your morning dose of caffeine, now scram_. Elliott's own stupid fault for allowing himself to dream, to imagine the two of them could have a future again. Together.

"At least let me get dressed first," Elliott said.

Graves's nose wrinkled. "Maybe a shower, too. If you insist on making yourself presentable."

What else was Elliott supposed to do? _Once upon a time, we would've shared that shower._ He remembered one time, they'd stayed in there too long and the hot water'd run out. They'd ended up going back to bed to 'warm up'.

_This isn't helping. Those days are over. Accept it, move on, and be glad you get to have him on your team._ Elliott shook his head, turning on the water, wishing he could wash away the memories and regrets along with the sweat.

Of course, it didn't work like that. _Why now?_ He'd barely been able to believe his eyes when Graves'd shown up at the try-outs.

He'd tried to be fair, to be objective, to not let his personal feelings cloud his professional judgment. He'd told himself that just because Graves was here trying out for Elliott's team, that didn't mean Graves also had any interest in Elliott as a person.

Graves coming to see him after had made that clear. _"I'm not looking for any special favors,"_ he'd said, looking calm and collected and like Elliott could have stripped naked right in front of him and all he'd have done was offer him a towel. _"Figured it was time for a change, is all."_

If it had felt like Graves still blamed him for their break-up, Elliott was pretty sure that'd only been his imagination. From his tone and the look in his eyes, it'd been obvious Graves considered their relationship a thing of the past. Over. Done.

Elliott had promised himself he wasn't going to be the kind of idiot or asshole who couldn't accept that.

_Mission_ not _accomplished, hotshot._

Graves's towels were huge and fluffy, the way he'd always liked them - and rarely gotten them in the sort of hotels hockey players tended to stay in.

_"What would the fans say if they heard Grave Digger acted like a spoilt, little princess?"_ Elliott had said, grinning, when Graves had complained about the hotel towels being too small and too scratchy. (They'd been fine, really. For most humans or marked.)

_"Come over here, and I'll show you 'little',"_ Graves had grouched, and Elliott had gone and had been forced to admit that, all right, 'little' wasn't the first adjective that came to mind.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Elliott sighed. He looked old. Sure, Graves had seemed happy enough to take him back to his room last night, but - _let's not go there again._

Graves wasn't not interested in Elliott because of how he looked. Graves wasn't interested because he wasn't interested. As simple as that, and the sooner Elliott would get that through his head, the happier they'd both be. The team didn't need this kind of shit.

_Get dressed, get coffee, get out._ A nice, easy plan. Even Elliott should be able to follow it.

Graves didn't look up when Elliott walked into his kitchen. The mug of coffee stood on the table waiting for him.

"I forgot to say this earlier, so I'll say this now," Elliott said, deciding to make it clear that if Graves wanted them to keep things professional, that was fine with him. That _worked_. "Good morning."

Graves's lips twisted a bit, like he wanted to smile. "Guess you're still not a morning person, huh?"

_I could have been, if you'd come back to bed._ Elliott swallowed. He wasn't some horny teenager anymore - or some horny twenty-something hotshot hockey player. "Nope."

Graves hesitated. Elliott could imagine what Graves wanted to say.

"No reason to talk about last night," he said calmly. "It happened. We're both adults, and we know where we stand. No need for any drama." Not that there'd ever been a lot of drama with Graves before.

Elliott had seen Graves walk into a room full of hotheads and drama queens, and somehow, just by being there, calm them down. Sure, they'd still been hotheads and drama queens, but they hadn't been about to tear each other to pieces anymore.

"Yeah," Graves said, voice soft. "I guess we do know where we stand, don't we?"

Something about Graves's tone sounded off, but Elliott couldn't put his finger on what it was. He supposed it might be a Graves thing. Elliott knew a thing or two about shifters, and sensitives, and he was beginning to get a sense for wizards (well, the one wizard who mattered, anyway) but Graves was still Graves. A class by himself.

Elliott sometimes wondered if that was part of the reason why he still felt the same old attraction, because after all these years, he still hadn't figured Graves out.

_Yeah. I'm sure the great sex and his personality have nothing to do with it. Naw. It's just that you like the mystery. Uh-huh._

"Like I said, no need to make a big thing out of this. Or a small thing," he said.

Graves said nothing. He looked - _brooding_ , Elliott thought.

"This is some good coffee." There. Subject of last night closed.

"Glad you like it," Graves said, Texas drawl in full effect. "Guess that tells me where I stand, all right. Coffee first, then me. Or maybe you liked the shower a lot, too? The towels? The view from the window? Do I even make it into the top eight?"

_What?_ Elliott frowned. "I don't understand."

Graves studied his face. Elliott managed not to squirm. It was a close thing, though. With anyone else, his cat would be clawing at the seams, demanding to be let out. With Graves, it knew better.

Graves wasn't _prey_. He wasn't _enemy_. He wasn't _mate_ , either.

"You weren't drunk enough last night to have it impair your judgment," Graves said. "You were in control, El. You knew what you were doing and who you were doing it with."

_'You didn't,'_ Elliott almost said, but thankfully, he wasn't that stupid.

"So if you want last night to have just been a fling, a one-time thing, sure, I've got no problem with that. You didn't make me any promises, so that's fair," Graves said. "But don't sit here and give me some bullshit about how it was a _mistake_ , an _accident_."

Elliott's cat smugly pretended it had known all along that humans were idiots.

"I - " Elliott hardly knew where to begin. "I thought you were the one who - "

Graves blinked once, in a way no human would have blinked. Then he breathed out, and some of the tension Elliott hadn't even fully realized was there went out of him. _How close did I just come to being breakfast?_ Not that Graves would ever actually harm him. Probably.

The idea that Graves might, that Elliott had actually come close to making Graves's control snap - _down, boy. Serious adults having a serious conversation here._

"Well. I suppose it isn't anything new to find out you're an idiot," Graves said.

"After the try-outs - " Elliott started, but Graves _moved_ , and the human part of his brain shut down, helpless and incapable of anything more than keeping him standing there, frozen, waiting.

"Nice to know you're _my_ idiot, though." Graves smirked, and before Elliott could come up with a suitable reply ('Me too'?), he'd pressed their bodies together, kissing Elliott as if last night hadn't happened, as if he was a starving man and Elliott his next meal.

_All right. I guess the serious conversation part of the morning's over now._


End file.
